Logistics
by PrincessTverski
Summary: Commander Cullen interrupts Lady Trevelyan's meeting to deliver some important logistical information. NSFW. Cullen x F!Trevelyan. PWP.


**Just a drabble based a "naughty Cullen" post going around Tumblr specifically: Cullen interrupting a meeting with some noble to murmur something in the Inquisitor's ear—said noble thinks it's an important message but it's actually just him telling her all the different thing he's going to do to her later.**

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Elena bit the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress the yawn that threatened to so rudely burst forth. Instead, she mustered up a smile to the man across the table, the Marquis de Rouen, and nodded in agreement to whatever he was blathering on about.

Normally she didn't mind meeting with the myriad of people who passed through Skyhold, but this gentleman talked of nothing but the pepper plantations he owned in Antiva. Honestly, how could one man have so much to say about peppers? But as Inquisitor, it was her duty to smile and make him feel like the Inquisition was personally invested in whatever he had to say. And to be honest, she was fairly certain Josephine _had_ invested in him.

"As you can see, we cross-bred the yellow with the spicier red to produced a lovely orange that has a subtle kick. I would be happy to–"

"Inquisitor!"

Elena turned to see Commander Cullen stalking into the garden, a thrill running through her at the sight of her fierce lover. From the serious expression on his face, and the way he clutching a report in his fist, she could tell it was something important. Even if it wasn't, she would welcome any distraction from the Pepper King.

"Excuse me a moment," he said, casting a glance at the Marquis, before he pulled her a few feet away, his hand clutching her forearm.

"Commander, what–" before Elena could turn to ask him what was the matter, she felt the warmth of his mouth at her ear.

"Inquisitor, I'm terrible sorry to interrupt what I'm sure is a _riveting_ conversation," he whispered, raising the report so that their faces were partially hidden from the Marquis. "But it is of dire importance that I inform you that I cannot stop thinking of you. You have bewitched me and all I can see when I close my eyes is your beautiful mouth; how you looked this morning on your knees with those sweet lips wrapped around my cock."

Elena's eyes widened as a soft, strangled gasp escaping from the back of her throat at his words–What in the Maker's name had possessed him? Cullen brushed a lock of her hair back, gently tucking it behind her ear, causing her to shiver, her body painfully attune to him. Quickly, she glanced at the Marquis, and was thankful that he looked concerned but not suspicious.

"Do you know what I'm going to do with you tonight, my sweet?" Cullen continued, pulling her attention back to the familiar warmth of his body next to hers. "First, I'm going to peel those trousers off of those long, pale legs of yours. Once you're bare, _completely bare_ , I'm going to sit you on my desk and spread your legs until I can see your sweet, _dripping_ sex."

Elena struggled to control the flush that threatened to spread over her cheeks and down her neck at his words, struggled to control her breathing when all she wanted to do was moan in agreement with his words. She could feel dampness pooling between her legs as he spoke, the familiar, aching burn between her thighs building at the picture he was painting for her.

"Sweetheart," he purred. "I'm going to tease you until you're begging me to take you, until you're pleading for my cock. I'm going to torment you with my fingers, my lips, _my breath_ , until you're a writhing, whimpering mess. And when I finally allow you to come, my love, all of Thedas will hear you screaming my name."

He shifted next to her, and she briefly felt his stiffened cock press against her hip. She bit her lip, suppressing her breathy moans. She could practically feel his mouth at her aching sex, the way his tongue would lap at her entrance or how he sucked at her pearl. Andraste's mercy, she was never going to survive until the evening.

She glanced at him, eyes blown wide in desire, and saw her need mirrored in his own gaze. She wanted to kiss him–to grab him by his fur-lined collar and drag him into a dark corner somewhere to have her way with him.

But she couldn't, and they both knew it.

"Now be a good girl, and go back to your noble fool," he said, the stern air of command once again in his voice. "Just remember who put that sweet, burning ache in your cunt."

Before she could respond, he stepped away, once again appearing as dignified and professional as usual, as if he hadn't just been whispered obscenities into her ear.

"Inquisitor," he murmured with a polite half bow, before he nodded to the Marquis and left the garden.

"I say, is everything alright, my lady?" the Marquis asked as she returned to their table. "You look rather distressed."

Elena cleared her throat and hoped her voice didn't sound too breathless. "Quite well, Marquis. The Commander was just finalizing some logistics with me for later this evening."

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